It Happened on Scrabble Sunday by Mahita Vas

Author:Mahita Vas [Vas, Mahita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07HM1HXY7
Publisher: Marshall Cavendish International
Published: 2018-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

16

That Night

Uday Aurora stepped outside the Jupiter Banana Leaf restaurant for a cigarette. It was his first cigarette since he quit smoking over a year ago. What he really needed was a Scotch. But not here. Not in this ageing restaurant with plastic table covers and pale green melamine plates shaped like mutated banana leaves and certainly not with his employees.

Uday could never understand the appeal of the restaurant’s specialty and one of Singapore’s favourite dishes—a fish’s head swimming in a tamarind gravy, eyes bulging and mouth slightly open, exposing opaque white teeth which looked like the tiny thorns on the stem of a rose in full bloom. Try it, Mr Aurora! The cheeks are plump with succulent flesh, they said. And the curry, so tangy, so addictive. No thank you, he said. I’ll just order myself a vegetarian biryani.

Still struggling to cope with last night’s tragedy, Uday had tried to avoid this evening’s event, but found it impossible to extricate himself without giving a good reason. This was a small price to pay for clients from Guangzhou who had been nothing but honourable since he was introduced to them years ago. He had promised to join them for an hour, before visiting someone. He glanced at his watch. He could leave soon; a few would make the obligatory fuss, but not enough to compel him to stay.

It was nearly 9pm. A gentle breeze cutting through the warm air wafted the faint smell of stale urine from a back alley nearby. Race Course Road was bustling with migrant workers from India and Bangladesh, shopping for groceries, just milling about chatting with each other, or on the phone, presumably with their families back home. Uday felt sorry for them. Having lived in Singapore for nearly fifteen years, he had heard enough horror stories to know that a typical migrant worker’s life was a tale of woe. For a number of men squatting or sitting along the pavement across the street, the unflattering street lights served to deepen the lines of misery on their weather-beaten faces.

Up until yesterday, Uday did not have it in him to hurt anyone. He had turned vegetarian when he was twelve, after going to the meat market near an abattoir in Mumbai with his family’s cook and witnessing a young goat being slaughtered there. He had run towards the butcher and hit him, wailing and begging him to release the goat, it’s ear-splitting bleat sounding like a wailing baby desperate for his feed. Young Uday had been inconsolable for days, before proclaiming his decision to never eat meat again. The thought and sight of blood and violence still sickened him.

Several people were leaving the restaurant. A blast of air- conditioning hit him every time someone opened the door. Despite the artificially cool air around him, Uday felt the heat rising within him. He breathed more rapidly. Watching the migrant workers—some boisterous, most subdued, all probably struggling to make ends meet—Uday made up his mind.

He took a long, deep draw on his cigarette and called his chauffeur to pick him up.

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